


it'll be fun (they said)

by parksquared



Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Drabble Collection, M/M, Specific Tags Inside Each Chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-04-20 05:03:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14253591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parksquared/pseuds/parksquared
Summary: just a collection of drabbles1. close your eyes (everything will be alright)2. on wednesdays we wear (blue)3. take a shot (every time you fall in love)4. take a shot (every time you think of him)5. kiss, kiss, fall in love





	1. close your eyes (everything will be alright)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> simple hurt/comfort drabble, 2park, lapslock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> set after the controversy that was blown way out of proportion

“stop reading that filth,” woojin murmurs as he takes jihoon’s phone away from him easily. 

jihoon had been scrolling through the vitriol poured out against him, against his members for their conduct prior to the star live broadcast. he marvels at how quickly the tide had turned--from undying affection to unfettered hate. what happened to the 'i’ll never leave you-s' and the 'i'll love you forever-s'? and all this due to a mistranscribed script? he had been warned of this before by his industry seniors, had prepared his heart to deal with this, but the reality still hurts. his heart feels heavy at how all it took was one incident to erase all the good work he had done so far. 

jihoon turns to hide his face in woojin’s chest and whines. “i’m tired, woojinnie. i just want to sleep but when i close my eyes, all i see are the hate comments, the accusations,” jihoon says in a small, thin voice. “it hurts.”

woojin loops his arms around jihoon, holds him tighter, ignores the _oomph_ jihoon lets out and tugs him even closer; throws his leg over jihoon’s, slipping it between jihoon’s slack legs, as if he’s physically trying to take away jihoon’s pain.

“you’ve done whatever you can. you’ve apologised to anyone who has demanded an apology, even though they don’t deserve one,” woojin continues in his low, steady voice, “the only thing left to do now is sleep.” 

“i can’t... all these thoughts running through my head. i-i ca-can’t, i can’t stop thinking about how their attention is fixated on how unprofessional i was rather than the sasaengs. it’s almost as if they don’t care.”

“worry about that tomorrow,” woojin says as he brings a hand to jihoon’s head, threading his fingers through jihoon’s hair, massaging his scalp with light strokes to ease away the tension tightly coiled in jihoon. 

“feels nice,” jihoon murmurs, feeling his body relax involuntarily from woojin’s ministrations. 

“yea? how about i sing you a lullaby?” woojin says as he presses a kiss to the top of jihoon’s head.

“no thanks, you’ll keep me up all night instead if you start singing,” jihoon snuggles into woojin’s chest, lines their bodies impossibly close. “don’t stop.”

“shall i rap to you then?” and woojin starts rapping, softly and sweetly, his voice a stark difference from the usual gruffness.

jihoon closes his eyes, finally falls asleep to the rumbling in woojin’s chest as he raps; listening to the beat of woojin’s heart, strong and steady; basking in the assurance that woojin will always be here and that’s all that really matters.


	2. on wednesdays we wear (blue)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> woojin's favourite days are wednesdays. trust him, it's only because he gets to eat dwaeji gukbap on wednesdays.
> 
> doctor!woojin, police officer!jihoon, 2park, lapslock, mindless fluff

wednesdays are woojin’s favourite days. they are dwaeji gukbap days—days when the hospital staff cafeteria serves rice in hot, steamy pork soup. full bodied and flavourful, the dwaeji gukbap there is rich yet light, without any of that cloying greasiness that stays on his tongue as with most rich foods, that refuses to go away even with multiple gulps of hot barley tea; it is fortifying food that warms the creeping chill in his heart as he makes his rounds around the paediatric ward looking after children with illnesses ravaging their tiny, frail bodies. 

and the ahjumma from busan makes dwaeji gukbap just the way he likes it—just like how his favourite hole-in-the-wall in busan makes it. oh god, how he misses busan and its comforts but seoul is where he has chosen to carve out a life for himself on his own terms. and it doesn’t hurt that busan ahjumma ladles more soup and glorious meat when he speaks in satoori and flashes his snaggletooth at her. 

a hot stomach, a warm chest, singing tastebuds, yummy food, a reminder of home, really just everything a man needs to continue the grind. wednesdays are dwaeji gukbap days—truly, truly his favourite days. 

it is definitely not because wednesdays are also the days a certain officer park jihoon volunteers in the paediatric ward (“shut up, lee daehwi.”)

it is also definitely not because officer park looks terrifyingly attractive and so out of his league in his police uniform in all his broad shouldered and tiny waisted glory (“i wear a uniform too, i can’t have a uniform kink, daehwi!”)

it is most definitely not because officer park looks so damn fucking endearing when he’s crouched down at a patient’s eye-level, shaking a fluffy pink teddy bear at them or making fucking weird squawking noises in an attempt to make sick kids laugh (“no, daehwi, he’s not perfect for me just because he speaks some unknown bird language. i’m human?”)

in any case, it is also worth noting that wednesdays are hump days—the best beacon of hope to any sad slave to capitalism that the work week is almost over and that life is about to begin (“dude, what are you on? we’re doctors, we don’t work regular hours. the only hump day is the day you hump officer park” and “really daehwi, you need to shut the fuck up.”)

wednesdays:he could write endless odes, love sonnets, haikus about wednesdays and what they mean to him—his favourite days, his precious dwaeji gukbap days. 

but it really is his favourite day of the week, primarily because it’s park jihoon day, which woojin finally admits to himself as he fails to sink deeper into his well rehearsed denial when officer park smiles at him in acknowledgement as he walks into the ward, dressed in his navy blue uniform, police hat under his arm. 

he’s fucked. so fucked. 

wednesdays are the days when he gets to see the sparkle in officer park’s eyes. 

such days really are his favourite days.


	3. take a shot (every time you fall in love)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jihoon gets drunk. woojin brings him home. 
> 
> 2park feat minhyun, woojin pov, drunk!jihoon (he doesnt really talk much here), pre-relationship, lapslock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> inspired by jihoon's desire to test his alcohol tolerance

“hello, is this, uh, woojin?” 

woojin pulls his phone from his ear when he doesn’t hear the deep voice he was expecting. _that’s strange_ , he thinks when he sees ‘jihoonie’ on his caller id. it is jihoon’s number all right but why is a stranger’s voice coming out from his phone instead?

panic strikes through woojin’s body. woojin feels his palms breaking out in cold sweat when he realises that there can only be so many reasons a stranger has jihoon’s phone; none of them good, the chief of which—he _must_ have landed himself in some kind of danger.

“hello?” the voice calls out. “hello? can you hear me? is this phone not—“

that snaps woojin out of his reverie and he raises his voice, loud with fear yet thin with panic, “yes, hi. i’m woojin. who’s this? what happened to jihoon?” and holds his breath for the bad news that has yet to come.

“ok great! calm down, nothing’s wrong with your friend. boyfriend? anyway, he, uh, he is drunk, sleeping actually, and there’s nobody here with him. you’re number one on his speed dial so, uh, can you come get him?” 

warmth blooms like flowers in springtime in woojin’s chest and spreads throughout his body at what the stranger has said and that is all he can focus on. “i’m number one on his speed dial?” 

“yes? but that’s not what’s important. can you come get him? otherwise, do you know who else i can call? his mother?” says the stranger. 

“i can come get him,” woojin says quickly. “what’s the address?”

  
  
  


***

  
  
  


woojin had not expected to find himself in a dingy bar off the corner of some godforsaken street he has already forgotten the name of when the clock struck 1am earlier. but here he is. and there jihoon is, with his head nestled in the cocoon formed by his arms. 

woojin can’t help but snort at the sight. jihoon looks tiny, swaddled in his oversized grey hoodie, looks so helpless because he’s dead to the world. and woojin marvels at how this is such a contrast to his prickly personality, as he reaches out to poke jihoon’s cheeks, laughing softly when jihoon frowns in his sleep.

“you’re here?” 

woojin startles and looks up to a handsome face peering back at him. “yes, hello, this is my friend. who are you?”

the handsome man laughs gently. “i know. you must be woojin. i’m minhyun. we spoke over the phone?” 

“oh! hi, sorry about my friend. thanks for calling me,” woojin says as he stands hurriedly and holds out a hand.

minhyun smiles, shakes his hand and wordlessly passes jihoon’s phone back to him, the neon pink of his phone case a jarring contrast to minhyun’s gentle looks. 

an awkward silence settles around them. 

“right, anyway, i’ll bring him home now. how much is his bill?” woojin asks, palming his pocket for his wallet. 

“don’t worry about it. it’s on the house,” minhyun says and continues, when woojin shoots him an incredulous look, “it’s our fault that your friend’s so drunk. it's a long story but do you see the two idiots there?”

woojin’s eyes follow where minhyun‘s finger is pointing and lets out an involuntary sound that's halfway between a snort and a giggle. 

“yep, for some reason, seongwoo and daniel managed to rope your friend into their silly game to figure out what their drinking limits are. your friend collapsed first but they’re still going at it,” minhyun says fondly.

and they are—red faced and surrounded with tiny green bottles, downing soju shots with a single minded focus only the truly drunk are capable of. 

“anyway, your friend puked and downed some water before he fell asleep so he shouldn’t feel too horrible tomorrow.” 

woojin starts to make his apologies on jihoon’s behalf, hands coming up in front of him in a half clasp. 

“ah, don’t worry about it. i’m used to cleaning this.” woojin receives yet another calm smile from minhyun and he begins to wonder if anything would ever faze him. it is unnerving how minhyun has not stopped smiling since he introduced himself. 

“thank you for taking care of jihoon and calling me,” says woojin as he quirks a small, snaggletoothed smile at minhyun.

“no worries, i’m glad i got the right person. he was calling out for you earlier.” 

“oh,” woojin mutters to himself. woojin thinks he might be blushing with how hot his cheeks feel and feels his cheeks burn hotter with that realisation. for a mad second, woojin thinks it's unfair how minhyun dropped such a bomb on him with such a nonchalant voice, when he’s not prepared for it at all.

“you are not...?” minhyun’s voice trails off when he realises his mistake and continues, “anyway, come back _together_ next time. we have good chimaek here,” ending with yet another smile. 

“thank you. i’ll bring him home now,” and woojin turns his attention back to jihoon, crouches down to pat his cheek, “yah park jihoon, wake up! i can’t carry you to the car all by myself!” 

when a particularly hard tap leads to a faceful of jihoon’s gross, sticky palm that reeks of soju pressing against woojin’s nose, minhyun laughs and offers his help. together, they bring jihoon to the car that woojin had borrowed hastily from jisung when he left the campus dormitory. 

if nobody else but him and the stars (and minhyun with his reddening ears) hears jihoon’s whispered _woojinnie_ against his neck and woojin’s _i’m here_ , then woojin can keep this memory tightly wounded and hidden in the deep recesses of his mind and pretend that this moment of tenderness has not tilted the delicate balance that they had so carefully maintained throughout their friendship.

they should figure out what they mean to each other when jihoon‘s sober—

if the opportunity arises;

if he finds it in him;

if he breaks first.

but for now, jihoon needs sleep. they can talk tomorrow or never.


	4. take a shot (every time you think of him)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jihoon gets drunk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happens before take a shot (every time you fall in love) - you don't have to read that to understand this
> 
> jihoon's pov, drunk!jihoon, woojin is mentioned but does not appear, pre-relationship 2park, side ongnielhwang, pov switch after the break

It has now come to this—the final shot. Jihoon watches blearily as Seongwoo pours another shot of soju into his glass. It’s kinda rude, come to think of it, that his _hyung_ is pouring him a drink while he’s just perched on his palm looking back at him, but they are beyond that now—take that, age hierarchies. Who gives a shit when there’s a disgusting cup of soju to chase? 

Seriously, Jihoon did not expect that he’d be getting drunk on a Wednesday night (he has lectures to attend tomorrow! He is responsible!) when he walked into Hwang Gallyang’s Chimaek earlier because he was starving and dying for a bite of that spicy, sweet, salty, savoury chicken—a whole party in his mouth. 

All he wanted to do was sink his teeth into the chicken in front of him, but the handsome waiter with the constellation of moles on his cheek (he now knows is Ong Seongwoo) had to accost him and charm him into accepting a free glass of beer. A free glass of beer turned into bottles of soju with the inclusion of Daniel, Seongwoo’s friend, to their mini drinking party, who apparently is waiting for Seongwoo and Minhyun to close up the eatery so that they can go home and do something together. Jihoon can’t quite remember how the story goes. He’s too sleepy now to even think. 

Anyway, fried chicken. Fried chicken really _is_ the best thing that has ever come out of the kitchen and deserves to be immortalised. Every town should have a chicken as its mascot. It is to this end that Jihoon blurts out the next sentence, interrupting whatever weird tangent Seongwoo and Daniel are on—something about how cute Minhyun’s red ears are?—he lost track about 10 words ago: “Hyung, why don’t we have a chicken island? You know, like how the Japanese have an island full of cats? We should have a chicken island in Korea!”

Daniel giggles. _Man, why is he always giggling_ , Jihoon thinks to himself. “Daniel hyung! I’m not trying to be funny? Why are you laughing?” Jihoon feels like he’s pouting so he paws at his face. Yeah, okay, he is pouting. Being drunk feels terrible; his face is kind of numb and hot to the touch. Is he still pouting?

“I want to go to a cat island. I miss Rooney and Peter,” Daniel replies, stupid with drink, smiling to himself goofily. 

_Who’s Rooney and Peter? Whatever._ Jihoon decides he’s really too sleepy to unravel this mystery—relationships are so complicated. Isn’t Seongwoo and Minhyun hyung enough for Daniel? In Jihoon’s heart, there’s only enough space for one person. Sometimes, it even feels like his heart is too small to give Woojin all the love he deserves. “I miss Woojinnie,” Jihoon says forlornly. 

“Woojinnie? Who’s that? Your boyfriend?” Seongwoo perks up from where he was previously staring at his glass of soju, as if he couldn’t decide if it is water or alcohol. 

“Hey, only I can call Woojinnie Woojinnie,” Jihoon says petulantly. “Woojinnie is,” Jihoon pauses, struggling to fill in the blanks—his best friend, his soulmate or the one he wants to call ‘boyfriend’ but doesn’t dare to take the next step—and concludes with a simple, “is Woojin.” 

“Wow, you have the dreamiest smile on your face right now. Why are you so cute?” Seongwoo squeals as he leans forward to grab Jihoon’s face between his palms. Fuck, Jihoon hates being touched. He grits his teeth through it on a regular day but things are different now—he feels invincible and free, so Jihoon pulls his face back, swats Seongwoo’s offending hand and glowers at him. 

“Daniel! Save me,” Seongwoo cowers against Daniel’s shoulder and sticks out his tongue at Jihoon. But all Daniel does is laugh (again! always with the giggling!) and pat Seongwoo on his arm. 

“What are the three of you doing?” Minhyun’s voice cuts in suddenly. And Jihoon turns his soju fogged attention to Minhyun and peers at him with glazed eyes. It's strange how there are two Minhyuns staring back at him. 

“Minhyun hyung! Your voice… it’s so nice. Woojin has a nice voice too, especially when he speaks in satoori then he gets so deep and growly. Makes me feel all tingly. Yours is like honey?” Jihoon says, his tongue loosened by the countless shots he had taken, his brain working hard to find the correct words to describe the differences in Minhyun and Woojin’s voices. Oh god, he hates how drinking makes his brain move so slowly, he can literally feel his brain cells crawling. He should have never taken them up on their game when they realised that he has never been drunk. Being drunk _sucks_.

The tip of Minhyun’s ears (all four of them) grow red, and Jihoon marvels at how they seem to glow under the light. “Wow, your ears are really red,” Jihoon blurts out and Seongwoo cackles at that. “Why is everyone laughing at me?” whines Jihoon. It’s so rude how he’s trying his best to be friendly and all they’re doing is laughing at him. 

“Nobody is laughing at you,” Minhyun says gently, “But you really need to stop drinking. Is there someone I can call—”

Jihoon stops listening when a heaviness spreads from Jihoon’s head to the rest of his body and he struggles to keep his eyes open. All he wants is to rest his aching head on his arms so that he can finally sleep. All he needs is a second and he'll feel better and ready to socialise again. And so he does—gives in to his sleepiness and closes his eyes. But a thought sneaks in uninvited, unwanted, _unbidden_ , eases out easily from the tiny box he’d kept under lock and key until tonight: I wish Woojin was here.

  
  
  


***

  
  
  


“Jihoon? Are you really asleep?” Seongwoo asks. “I guess you are. What should we do now? We don’t know who his friends are, besides this Woojin,” Seongwoo looks at Minhyun, as he always does when he's stumped for answers.

“Jihoon?” Minhyun shakes Jihoon by the shoulders but all Jihoon does is whine in his sleep. “Jihoon? We need to call someone to pick you up. Wake up,” and Minhyun continues to shake Jihoon.

“Hyung, I don’t think he’s going to wake up anytime soon. Maybe we can use his phone to call someone. His phone is probably in his pocket?” Daniel suggests, looking blearily at Minhyun. 

Minhyun sighs to himself as he thinks about how Seongwoo has brought colour to his life, but with that comes the myriad of bizarre situations he's found himself dealing with ever since he started dating Seongwoo, thinks about Seongwoo's inability to resist teasing cute boys and now has led to a drunk Jihoon in their hands. But if Seongwoo had a habit of keeping to himself, they would not have this _thing_ with Daniel. 

Minhyun crouches next to Jihoon, mutters a soft apology, and slips his hand into the pocket of Jihoon’s sweats, feels the hard bulk of his phone and pulls it out with ease. 

“Jihoon… Jihoon, come on, we just need your passcode and you can continue to sleep.” Minhyun is rewarded when a particularly hard shove jolts Jihoon out of his sleep and he stirs. 

“Stop shaking me,” Jihoon opens one eye and slurs with the elegance of a drunk person. 

“Ok, ok, what’s your passcode?” 

“9,9,1,1,0,2,” Jihoon recites slowly, as if he’s digging deep to pull numbers of great significance from his head. Then he sits up abruptly, “Oh, I feel sick,” and presses his hand against his lips, shoulders coming up to his ears, chest heaving from the discomfort of keeping his vomit down. 

“Shit. Daniel, grab a bag for him,” Minhyun commands and continues with “Get moving!” when Daniel blinks slowly back at him. That spurs Daniel into action and he jumps off the seat and scrambles into the kitchen. 

“Seongwoo, I can’t find Woojin in his contact list.” Minhyun feels like he’s been pushed to the verge of exasperation with the chaos surrounding him. 

Daniel gets back just in time before Jihoon hurls into the bag. Daniel’s face looks green, as if he’s ready to retch himself. “Daniel, don’t you dare,” instructs Minhyun.

“Just try number one on his speed dial then,” Seongwoo says in between cooing at Jihoon as he rubs Jihoon’s back to ease his discomfort.

“Oh, ok, that worked. Pakujin? Park Woojin?” Minhyun sounds out the syllables he sees on the screen, rearranges them to fit conventional Korean names. “I guess this _is_ Woojin then.” 

Minhyun waits as the dial tone rings then clicks, “Hello, is this, uh, Woojin?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think im doing this drabble thing wrongly. this got way longer than i thought it would


	5. kiss, kiss, fall in love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2park, not quite together yet, kissing, 
> 
> despite the title is not actually an ouran au sorry to disappoint

“come here, you put on too much lip tint again,” woojin says as he wraps a hand around the crook of jihoon’s elbow and pulls him towards him. jihoon follows easily, without putting forth any resistance and woojin will never cease to be endlessly charmed by how effortlessly jihoon follows his lead sometimes. 

“this is the right amount that coordi noona taught us though,” jihoon says petulantly. 

woojin rolls his eyes. he has seen how jihoon goes at the lip tint, has spent way too much time staring at how jihoon scrunches his nose in confusion when he ends up with three dabs instead of the two and a half dabs on his lower lip as instructed, and has felt his pants constrict for an embarrassing number of times when jihoon decides to heck it and rubs at his parted lips anyway. woojin half suspects that jihoon, the little shit, knows exactly how lustful he looks when he tilts his head upwards, hoods his eyes and juts out his lower lip. he must, his reflection is staring right back at him. 

“right, that’s why you look like an ajumma right now,” woojin scoffs, reaching out to take some of the tint off his lips, his fingers cradling jihoon’s jaw while his thumb gently strokes against his lush bottom lip.

jihoon stands pliant, but a strange look comes over him; his eyes lock onto woojin’s—they focus and narrow as if he is issuing woojin a challenge. but woojin can’t quite parse out what challenge jihoon is issuing exactly—if this is another game of gay chicken that they’d taken to play so often ever since they started one upping each other during the wanna be stages and vcr footage. 

but this is just them now, in their bedroom preparing to leave for their next schedule, no bunssodan fans present to tease and delight with fan service, no members to terrorise with their antics. just them, two souls who met each other through a punishing programme, who get along so well that being roommates in a crowded house feels like peace. it doesn’t make sense. unless... unless, it is what he thinks it is. 

woojin stops stroking his thumb against jihoon’s bottom lip, but does not move his thumb away. he gingerly leans forward, giving jihoon ample opportunity to back away from whatever game he’s playing or not playing woojin doesn’t know anymore, but he’s ready to cross the line. jihoon licks at his thumb instead and that’s all the green light woojin ever needed. 

woojin pulls jihoon towards him, tilts his head and swoops in, pressing his lips fully against jihoon’s. the effect on woojin’s heart is not quite what he expects—a closed mouth kiss is chaste, sometimes denigrated to being cursory by some on the spectrum of kisses, but woojin’s pace quickens and his hearts beats so rapidly, he feels like it is about to jump out of his chest. 

he sees how jihoon’s eyes flutter shut and he parts his lips, caressing jihoon’s lower lip with his. their lips lock and it turns dirty fast when jihoon wrestles control of the kiss by licking into woojin’s mouth when he opened it to speak. that thought flees woojin’s mind as quickly as it came, stays forgotten while woojin seeks the warmth that is jihoon’s tongue sliding against him, the heat that is jihoon’s mouth as he chases his taste—the minty aftertaste of his toothpaste and more, something he can only describe as jihoon. 

woojin’s hands flit restlessly by his side, belying his nervousness, despite the surety of his kisses being traded with jihoon. jihoon’s hands find his and interlace their fingers, and jihoon brings woojin’s hands to encircle his neck. woojin takes the hint and channels his excess energy into toying with jihoon’s hair and feels jihoon’s lips quirk slightly, knows jihoon’s delighted by this and jihoon kisses him harder for it. 

it’s fitting how even as they explore new boundaries with unrestrained tongues, they are still them and it is this realisation that eases a weight off woojin’s chest, one that he was not aware he was carrying. woojin throws himself into the kiss with renewed vigour, pulls jihoon impossibly closer and their hearts beat as one.

when they finally separate, jihoon turns his face into woojin’s neck and laughs lightly, his breath ghosting his neck, sending shivers down woojin’s spine. 

“we good?” woojin asks softly, as he rubs circles on jihoon’s back.

“yea,” jihoon sighs out and lifts his head to look at woojin. 

loud laughter is ripped out of woojin and he says quickly at the quest of jihoon’s increasingly dour look, mirth lingering in his voice, “uh, you might want to look at,” and points at jihoon’s lips and says ending with a laugh, “i’m really sorry.”

jihoon stomps over to the mirror, sees the mess on his face and bellows, “park woojin!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trying to get back into writing so that i finish all my wips but it’s so hardddd

**Author's Note:**

> main twitter: [05294DJ1 ](https://www.twitter.com/05294DJ1)


End file.
